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mind of Henry Martyn derived some of its most glowing impulses from natural objects. "In the evening," he writes in his journal, "the sound of sacred music, with the sight of a rural landscape, imparted some indescribable emotions after the glory of God, by diligence in his work." It is a very pleasing observation of Alison, that, of the innumerable eyes upon our earth that open on nature, those of man alone see its Author and its end.
The gentle Walton delighted his heart with the reflection, while listening to the song of the nightingale, that God had assuredly prepared in heaven rewards for them who love Him since He suffered even bad men to partake here in those strains of harmony. We notice a thoughtful communion with nature in the lives of many of our elder bishops and masters in the faith. Of the early life of the excellent Bishop Andrews*, few particulars have been recorded; but we know that he was fond of walking by himself, or with a favourite companion, conversing upon their studies, or illustrating some dim passages of holy teaching; and he has declared that field-walks, with the contemplation of grass, corn, trees, and skies, and meditation on their beauties and virtues, afforded him, from his childhood to the evening of his life, the liveliest and sincerest gratification of which his feelings were susceptible.
We might trace this sympathy with trees and sunshine, through the works of many of the distinguished theologians and orators of the seventeenth century. There is a ruddy glow of healthful enjoyment in their genius. Two examples will be sufficient. The first comes from Jeremy Taylor: "I am fallen," he exclaims, "into the hands of publicans and sequestrators, and they have taken all from me;-what now? Let me look about me. They have left me sun and moon, fire and water, a loving wife, and many friends to pity me, and some to relieve; and I can still discourse, and, unless I list, they have not taken away my merry countenance, and my cheerful spirits, and a good conscience; they have still left me the Providence of God, and all the promises of the Gospel, and my religion, and my hopes of heaven, and my charity to them too. And still I sleep and digest, and eat and drink; I read and meditate; I can walk in my neighbour's pleasant fields, and see the variety of natural beauties, and delight in all that in which God delights; that is, in virtue and wisdom, in the whole creation and in God himself." This is a noble and fervid outpouring of Christian philosophy; but the poetic feeling of the writer breathes still more sweetly in the following passage, where he shows that the superb theatre of nature, with all its varying scenery, is open to the humblest spectator. "The poorest artisan of Rome, walking in Cæsar's gardens, had the same pleasure which they ministered to their lord; and although, it may be, he was put to gather fruits to eat from another place, yet his other desires were delighted equally with Cæsar's. The birds made him as good music, the flowers gave him as sweet smells; he there sucked as good air, and delighted in the beauty and order of the place, for the same reason, and for the same perception, as the prince himself." Now to these passages from Taylor, let me add the following scene from Bishop Patrick's Parable of the Pilgrim, and then compare them with one of the most exquisite stanzas in Thomson's Castle of Indolence. The Pilgrim in his journey discovers, under a large beech tree, a poor mau in very coarse and miserable clothes, yet apparently listening to the warbling of the birds with happiness and contentment. The Pilgrim approaches and addresses the stranger, who explains the reason and the source of his joy. His wants, he says, are few, and the blessings of God abundant. Poverty itself he regards as the mother of sobriety, the nurse of arts, and the mistress of wisdom. He has discovered that Prosperity offers her poison in cups of gold. "Nav," he continues, "this music which you saw me listening to, this music of God's own creating, gives me the greater ravishment, because I consider that none can rob me of it, and leave me my liberty and life. They that See Saturday Magazine, Vol. XXIV, p. 221.
have taken away my goods, and have banished me into the woods, cannot hinder the earth from putting forth the flowers, nor the trees from yielding their fruit, nor the birds from singing among the branches; no, nor me from entertaining myself with all these pleasures, at least from being contented." Thomson, I fear, never read Bishop Patrick; but the germ of his beautiful flower may certainly be discovered in the Parable.
I care not, Fortune, what you me deny: You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living streams, at eve. Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave; Of fancy, reason, virtue,-nought can me bereave. Dante has a sentiment not dissimilar, in his indignant rejection of the conditional return to Florence, after his long banishment. "What! shall I not everywhere enjoy the sight of the sun and stars? And may I not seek and contemplate in every corner of the earth, under the canopy of heaven,-consoling and delightful truth,— without rendering myself inglorious?" To return to our own history: it may display the rural feelings of early times to recollect, that, in the grant of Cox, bishop of Ely, in 1576, of a large part of Ely House to Christopher Hatton, the tenant undertook to pay a red rose for the gate-house and garden; and the bishop reserved to himself the privilege of gathering twenty bushels of roses yearly. The garden at Ely House seems to have been about four hundred feet long, and "almost as many broad," terminating in meadows comprising fourteen acres. In Lord Burleigh's garden, at Theobalds, the walks extended two miles. Archbishop Sancroft was found by Hough working in his garden at Fresingfield.
But it is time for us to contemplate the Christian in his garden; and the history of Wilberforce presents us with a beautiful picture. Nature had always been dear to him; and even his favourite poet could not have gazed, by the side of his companion and friend, Mrs. Unwin, with a more tender or loving eye, over the villages that glimmered in the setting sun; the grey towers of village churches, dimly seen through trees; the valley inlaid by the winding river; or the hedgerow blossoming in May. To settle in soft musings in silent lanes; to wander beneath the verdant roof of embowering foliage, with no sound to break the solitude, except the low, sweet song of the redbreast,
content with slender notes And more than half-suppressed;
to read some sacred or pleasant volume,-a Psalter or a Horace, under the wide-spreading boughs of an old chesnut-tree-these we know to have been the inno
cent amusements of Wilberforce, as they had been of the hermit of Weston. Cowper thought it not unworthy of his harp, to commemorate the kindness of Mr. Throgmorton in preserving, at Weston Underwood, the chesnuts, in "whose long-protracted bowers" he might enjoy, at noon,
The gloom and coolness of declining day. Rogers introduces a very pleasing sketch of a celebrated contemporary of Wilberforce, forgetting the turbulent animosities of political excitements, in the sequestered walks of his garden:Ah! then 'twas thine Ne'er to forget some volume half divine; Shakspere's or Dryden's,-through the chequered shade Borne in thy hand behind thee, as we stray'd.
A garden walk with Wilberforce was more delightful to the Christian's heart, than all the elegance and taste of Fox could have made it. We can hear him, in the spirit of Cowper, moralizing upon every leaf and blossom, as he bent over them in love and admiration:
Laburnum, rich In streaming gold; syringa, iv'ry pure; The scentless and the scented rose,-this red And of an humbler growth, the other tall And throwing up into the darkest gloom Of neighbouring cypress, or more sable yew, Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf That the wind severs from the broken wave; The lilac, various in array,-now white, Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set With purple spikes pyramidal, as if, Studious of ornament, yet unresolved Which hue she most approved, she chose them all; Copious of flowers, the woodbine pale and wan, But well compensating her sickly looks With never-cloying odours, early and late; Hypericum, all bloom, so thick a swarm Of flowers, like flies clothing her slender rods, That scarce a leaf appears; mezereon, too, Though leafless, well attired, and thick beset With blushing wreaths, investing every spray; Althæa, with the purple eye; the broom, Yellow and bright, as bullion unalloy'd, Her blossoms; and, luxuriant above all, The jasmine, throwing wide her elegant sweets, The deep, dark green of whose unvarnish'd leaf Makes more conspicuous, and illumines more The bright profusion of her scatter'd stars ;These have been, and these shall be in their day. From death to plenty, and from death to life, Is Nature's progress, when she lectures man In heavenly truth; evincing, as she makes The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things,-and that soul is God. The beauties of the wilderness are his, That makes so gay the solitary place, Where no eye sees them; and the fairer forms, That cultivation glories in, are his. He sets the bright procession on its way, And marshals all the order of the year. And, ere one flowery season fades and dies, Designs the blooming wonders of the next.
Crabbe gives to the vicar of his Borough a taste for flowers;
As the eye of Wilberforce wandered from the page of the open volume, it would turn to some beautiful plant, or some blossom painted over with the richest tints; and then, we are told, he would point out the harmony of the colours, the beauty of the pencilling, the perfection of the colouring, and run up all into those aspirations of praise to the Almighty which were ever welling forth from his grateful heart. He loved flowers with all the simple delight of childhood. He would hover from bed to bed over his favourites; and when he came in, even from his shortest walk, he deposited a few that he had gathered safely in his room before he joined the breakfast table. Often would he say, as he enjoyed their fragrance, "How good God is to us! What should we think of a friend who had furnished us with a magnificent house and all we needed, and then, coming in to see that all had been provided according to his wishes, should be hurt to find that no seats had been placed in the rooms? Yet so has God dealt with us! surely flowers are the smiles of his goodness." This beautiful description of Wilberforce may be compared with a touching anecdote related by Mr. Woodward: "It was my lot," he writes, "many years years ago to attend a friend, unspeakably dear to me, upon his dying bed. He was one who loved all that is pure in nature, and who, moreover, loved the Lord his God with all his heart. But a few hours before his departure, a bunch of his favourite flowers was brought to him. The sorrowing group around him watched with tender anxiety, to see whether he would notice them, and in what manner he would now be affected by them. But they were not left long in suspence; for no sooner did he catch the wellknown fragrance, than he lifted his eyes to heaven, and almost with his last breath exclaimed, 'Silent hymns!"" Our old monasteries sometimes witnessed similar scenes of delightful piety and resignation. Seated in the open air, surrounded by the monks, and at the hour of singing the morning psalms, expired the young Abbot of Wearmouth.
To a small garden with delight he came,
And gave successive flowers a summer's fame;
and the village-parsonages of England-nooks of verdure and sunshine-contain some charming plots of garden-ground. There is a beauty in their inclosure of rose-hedges, which we look for in vain among the princely magnificence of baronial abodes. Flowers seem to be the natural ornament of the pastor's dwelling; with these jewels of nature his rooms shine: Herbert decked his chamber with them; the home of his Country Parson was to be as fine as his garden could make it. His poetry may illustrate his advice:
O that I once past changing were,
Fast in thy Paradise, where no flower can wither! Many a spring I shoot up fair,
Off'ring at heaven, growing and groaning thither: Nor doth my flower
Want a spring-shower,
My sins and I joining together!
But while I grow in a straight line,
Still upwards bent, as if heaven were mine own,
Where all things burn,
And the least frown of thine is shown?
These are thy wonders, Lord of Love, To make us see we are but flowers that glide: Which when we once can find and prove, Thou hast a garden for us, where to bide.
Who would be more
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
Dr. Cooke Taylor, in his very interesting essay on the history of society, notices, as a peculiarity of the Christian dispensation, that its divine Author makes no special reference to the consolation, or to the mental elevation, which the humble study of the power and wisdom of God, as displayed in his works, cannot fail to afford. He regards the omission as a proof of the universality of the religion; the force of such arguments necessarily depending not only upon climate, but upon the extent of civilization and capacity. But he justly adds, that our Lord, neither by precept nor example, taught His disciples to survey with indifference the harmonies or sublimities of nature. "Some of his most persuasive lessons and affecting illustrations were derived from those mute preachers, the flowers of the field; 'the lilies that toil not, neither do they spin,' and yet are more gorgeously arrayed than Solomon in all his glory,-the fields white with the ripened harvest,-the vineyard with all its varieties of labour and enjoyment. A garden was chosen for the place of his sepulture." his favourite resort for contemplation, and a garden was
[Abridged from WILLMOTT'S Pictures of Christian Life.]
Comparative Scale of the Elementary Sounds to be found in Ancient and Modern Languages. The English retains only 38, the German 31, and the French 39. The Latin 45, the Hebrew 65, the Persian 122, the Arabic 148, the Welch 213. With respect to the Hebrew, however, it it should not be forgotten, that its imperfect remains preclude a satisfactory view of its elementary character. Of the 65 elements still preserved in it, about 30 have an The Arabic has 63 and Persian 61, agreeing in the same identity of functions and signification with those in Welsh.
manner.-W. O. PUGHE.
JOHN W. PARKER, PUBLISHER, WEST STRAND, LONDON,
ANTIQUITY AND EXTENT OF THE EARLDOM OF ARUNDEL. In antiquity, extent, and dignity, the earldom of Arundel, in the county of Sussex, is the most interesting and the most remarkable in England. The Rape of Arundel contains fifty-five parishes, some of which are very considerable. These are ranked under six hundreds, over which the earldom of Arundel was anciently paramount. The forest of Arundel was a separate jurisdiction; and this, with its chases and parks, was very extensive, and occupied a considerable part of the Rape. That part of this district which is immediately on the sea, has been greatly encroached upon by the tides. Of the parish of Middleton, eight miles from Chichester, more than half has been absorbed by the sea, and even within the last twenty or thirty years the land has been considerably encroached upon. The town of Arundel is situated on the river Arun, at a short distance from the sea, and on some elevated ground close to the town, rises the noble Castle of Arundel, the history of which, together with that of its dignified owners, will form the subject of our present number.
This term is peculiar to Sussex, and represents a division less than a county, but greater than a hundred.
HISTORICAL NOTICE OF ARUNDEL CASTLE, SUSSEX.
There is mention of Arundel Castle as early as the time of King Alfred, who bequeathed it by will to his nephew Adhelm. But it does not appear at that time to have ranked higher than the neighbouring lordships, and though it descended to Harold, afterwards king, the proof of its enjoying privileges and jurisdiction as a royalty, is of subsequent date. After the battle of Hastings, Arundel was conferred by the Conqueror on his kinsman, Roger de Montgomeri, who was created Earl of Arundel and Shrewsbury, receiving two very extensive territories or earldoms which gave the title. The earldom of Arundel then consisted of a very extensive district estimated at 42,160 acres, reaching from Arundel to the sea, to the Weald, and to the confines of Hampshire, and was commensurate with the present rapes of Arundel and Chichester. In 1071 Earl Roger had established himself at Arundel, and had constirounding his castle in every direction, his possessions were tuted his earldom in the plenitude of feudal tenure. Surthree lordships, ten hundreds with their courts of suit and service, eighteen parks, and twenty-five manors with their of Normandy in his invasion of England, and commanded appendant lands. This earl was a chief adviser of William the centre of his army at the battle of Hastings. The Conqueror seems to have delighted in heaping favours on him. Besides making him Earl of Arundel and Earl of 801
Shrewsbury, he granted him manors in the counties of Sussex, Surrey, Hants, Wilts, Middlesex, Hereford, Gloucester, Worcester, Cambridge, Warwick, Stafford, and Salop, all of which are enumerated in Domesday Book. In 1087 he founded the abbey of St. Peter, in the suburbs of Shrewsbury, for Augustine canons, and in 1094 he there assumed the habit of religion and became a monk, but died three days afterwards, and was honourably interred there.
It may here be desirable to describe the more ancient portions of Arundel Castle, that we may picture to ourselves the almost regal state in which Earl Roger lived, and the kind of dwelling which he found partly ready to his hands; but of which he was no doubt the main improver at that period; and herein, as in other matters relating to this castle, Dallaway's excellent work will be taken as the guide. The Castle of Arundel, as a military stronghold, has been referred to the period when the Romans were masters of this country; but as this has been disputed by several antiquarians, it is sufficient to say that certain portions of this edifice are certainly of very remote antiquity. That a castle existed before the Conquest is fully proved; for not only is the herring-bone masonry in some of the walls an absolute indication of the Saxon era, or perhaps of higher antiquity, but in Domesday Book there is mention of a singular tax which this castle paid in Edward the Confessor's time: "Castle Harundel, in King Edward's time, paid for a mill forty shillings, and for three feasts twenty shillings, and for a pasty twenty shillings." The circular form of the keep favours the supposition that Earl Roger found that part of the castle ready to his hands. Most of the Norman keeps are square.
ANCIENT APPEARANCE AND EARLY HISTORY OF THE CASTLE.
The circumference of the whole site of Arundel Castle, exclusive of the outworks, is of an oblong shape, inclosing five acres and a half of ground. The ground plan very nearly resembles that of Windsor Castle with a circular keep in the middle, raised on a mount partly natural, partly artificial. The walls are from five to twelve fect in thickness, and the space inclosed by them is in the proportion of nine to fourteen. Almost in the centre of the inclosed fortification, a mount is thrown up, the summit of which rises more than a hundred feet on one side and eighty on the other, and proudly overlooks the whole castle. This mode of fortification was practised by the Danes, and is considered as affording another proof that the castle was of considerable importance before it came into the possession of Earl Roger. It is thought from the appearance of Roman bricks, that Earl Roger or his son retained the present keep on the Danish, or perhaps Roman earthworks, having applied to the exterior a casing of hewn Caen stone, much used in all Norman edifices. The keep is from eight to ten feet thick, and strengthened with ribs or buttresses: the parapet withinside is eight feet high, and in the centre of the inclosure is a small subterraneous room, towards which the internal chambers converged. The entrance was formerly through a Norman arch, now inaccessible, with a carved doorcase, of the zigzag mouldings common in castles of that age. This circular keep was flanked by a square or oblong tower, and guarded by a portcullis. The present entrance was approached by a long flight of stone steps; and above it was an oratory dedicated to St. Martin, and a very deep well, to fill up which, not many years since, a part of this tower was taken down and thrown into it. By the steps and sally-port the keep is connected with the great gateway, a plain circular arch under a large square tower, in which are two chambers, originally state chambers. These, probably, were the whole of the buildings as inhabited by Earl Roger and his
the First, upon condition that the earl should be allowed to retire into Normandy. Extraordinary preparations had been made for the defence of the castle by means of a high wooden tower, placed upon the ballium, but the capitulation taking place, the siege was raised, and the castle suffered no detriment. Henry the First thus took the earldom of Arundel into his own possession, and settled it by will on Adeliza, or Alice of Lorraine, his second wife.
In the month of July, 1139, the Empress Maud, with her brother and a retinue of one hundred and forty knights, were received with great courtesy in Arundel Castle by Adeliza, then the queen dowager, who had married William de Albini, earl of Sussex, called William of the Strong Hand, because there is a legendary story of his having killed a lion by tearing out its tongue. Adeliza had expected that her daughter-in-law would have invaded the kingdom with a much greater force, and was therefore justly alarmed when King Stephen, then occupied in the siege of Marlborough, suddenly appeared before the castle, and threatened its demolition if the empress was not given up. Adeliza, it is said, pleaded the rights of relationship and hospitality, and the king, allowing her plea, suffered her royal visitant to withdraw, who pursued her journey to Bristol. What ilk time, sa felle, Molde the Emprice com to land Be Castell of Arundelle open ageiinst hur fond: han Steven understood Molde was in Arondelle, o miickle folk and gude beseged hír, at Castelle, Molde thaght of his poer, she bethought her strait, And doubted dishonoure that mout com thoroh disceit; Scheo hiid here to Brightstowe.
Here, then, Earl Roger, first Earl of Arundel, and Earl Marshal of England, dwelt in the midst of his wide extent of property, and continued in favour with his sovereign until his death, when the estates devolved upon first his son Hugh de Montgomeri, then upon his son Robert, earl of Belesme, in Normandy. This son soon forfeited royal favour by taking part with Robert, the eldest son of the Conqueror, against Henry, his youngest son, in the family discord that prevailed at that time. The first siege of Arundel Castle took place in the time of this Robert de Belesme, and ended in the surrender of the castle to Henry
PETER LANGTOFT's Chronicles.
By the marriage of Adeliza just mentioned, the earldom of Arundel devolved on the Albini family. It was enjoyed by several of their descendants, until at the death of Hugh de Albini, fifth earl of Arundel of that house, the estates were divided between his four sisters and co-heirs. In this great division the castle and honour of Arundel were assigned to Fitz-Alan, who had married Isabel, the second sister and co-heir, and who assumed the earldom by tenure only, and was the progenitor of seven earls of Arundel, to the death of Thomas, earl of Arundel, in 1415. The third earl of the family of Fitz-Alan added greatly to the castle of Arundel, in the reign of Edward the First, which monarch was present here as a guest, and dated a patent hence September 9th, 1302. The outward gateway was added, as a continuation of the first, which was also strengthened by a large buttress fifty feet high. The arches of the outer gateway form an obtuse angle, and are ribbed, and flanked by two square embattled towers. One of these is sometimes called Bevis's tower, from a legendary story of its having been the residence of that champion when porter to the castle. "Bevis," says Mr. Gilpin, "was a giant of ancient times, whose prowess was equal to his size. He was able to wade the channel of the sea to the Isle of Wight, and frequently did it for his amusement. Great, however, as Bevis was, he condescended to be warder at the gate of the Earls of Arundel, who built this tower for his reception, and supplied him with two hogsheads of beer every week, a whole ox, and a proportional quantity of bread and mustard. It is true the dimensions of the tower are only proportioned to a man of moderate size; but such an inconsistence is nothing when opposed to the traditions of a country." The barbican tower rises from an artificial mound on the north-west side of the great vallation and mount of the keep. It is square, with buttresses, and was approached only by a very steep flight of steps, and a small sharply arched doorway. It was connected with the sally-port of the keep by a covered way, and the wall which surrrounded the whole of the fortified space. This walled inclosure was strengthened by numerous square towers, and a curious military contrivance was made use of, and may still be seen, for the conveyance of sound by means of a circular funnel made through the grouted mortar in the thickness of the wall. Richard, earl of Arundel, although the third of his family who possessed the castle and estates, is considered by some writers as the first of the Fitz-Alan family who truly bore the title of earl. He is described as a handsome and well-beloved knight, and his presence at the siege of Carlaverock in June, 1300, is thus noticed in the old poem :
Richard le Conte de Aroundel
V bi-je ́richement arme
En rouge au Iyon rampant de or.
The last public action of this carl's life was the taking part in a letter from the Barons to Pope Boniface, denying his supremacy. This was in February, 1301, and in the following year the earl died, in the thirty-fifth year of his age.
and strict integrity, and who, therefore, ill brooked the effeminate court of Richard the Second, and, joining with the Duke of Gloucester, he formed an inveterate opposition to the measures of that feeble government. The chief instruments they employed were the citizens of London, who, at that period, upon great questions of state, spoke the opinions of the people at large. These confederates excited the fears and revenge of their weak monarch, and were, therefore, speedily removed from the opportunity of farther opposition to his wishes. Holinshed gives a long account of the trial and execution of this earl, and says, "His death was much lamented among the people, considering his sudden fall and miserable end, whereas not long before, among all the noblemen of this land, there was none more esteemed: so noble and valiant he was, that all men spake honour of him. After his death, as the fame went, the king was sore vexed in his sleepe with horrible dremes, imagininge that he saw this earle appeare to him, and putting him in horrible fear; with which visions being sorelie troubled, he cursed the day that ever he knew the earle. And hee was the more unquiet, because he heard it reported, that the common people took the earle for a martyr, insomuch that some came to visite at the place of his sepulture, for the opinion they had of his holiness. And, whereas, it was bruited abroad for a miracle, that his head should be growne to his bodie againe, the tenth day after his burial, the kinge sent, about ten of the clock at night, certain nobilitie to see his bodie taken up, that he might be certiof the truth; which done, and perceiving that it was a fable, he commanded the friars to take downe his armes that were set about the place of his burial, and to cover his grave, so that it should not be perceived where he was buried."
The next earl, Edmund Fitz-Alan, was born at Marlborough Castle, and was summoned to the first parliament of Edward the Second, when only eighteen years old. He was personally bound to the king, who had forgiven him a considerable debt, and at length he suffered death in his cause, being, without legal process, adjudged to death, and immediately beheaded.
His son, Richard, the second of that name, succeeded in 1331, bore a conspicuous part in the transactions of that period, and particularly distinguished himself in a sea-fight against the Spaniards, where seventeen ships were taken, and twenty-seven escaped through the darkness of the night. As constable of the army, he led the second battalion of the English army at the victory obtained by them over the French at Cressy. His great wealth enabled him to assist the king with money. It appears that, in 1371, the king owed him 20,000l. He died in 1375, aged sixty. It appears that at Cressy this earl took several prisoners of rank, and applied their ransom-money to the purpose of extending the habitable parts of his Castle of Arundel, on the southeast side, above the town. But this was an enlargement only, for several round-headed windows in the south front, and the vault under the east tower, formerly the castle prison, are indicative of a higher antiquity. In that build-fied ing the earl placed and endowed the chapel, dedicated to St. George. The will of this earl gives particular directions that no pomp shall be observed at his funeral obsequies. Thus he says, "My body to be buried in the chapter-house of the priory at Lewes, near the tomb of Alianor de Lancaster, my wife; and I desire that my tomb be no higher than hers; that no men-at-arms, horses, hearse, or other pomp be used at my funeral, but only five torches, with their morters, as was about the corpse of my wife, be allowed, and that no more than 500 marks be expended thereon." But though desiring little to be expended on his body, the earl was careful to provide for the continuance of masses, &c., for the good, as he believed, of his soul. Thus he left 2007. for the purchase of lands and rents for the monks of Lewes, for the saying of perpetual masses for the souls of his father, mother, wife, children, &c., and 1000 marks to purchase land of the value of 107 marks, "for the maintenance," it is stated in the will," of six priests and three choristers, to celebrate divine service every day by note, in the chapel of my Castle of Arundel, and to pray for the souls of my father and mother, my wife and children, their successors, and all Christian people: I will that they rise every day in summer at sun-rising, and in winter at break of the day, to their matins by note; and they are also to perform their masses high and low, and other divine services, according to the direction of my executors."
The son of this earl, also named Richard, was eminently distinguished for his integrity and magnificence; but living in the weak and wicked reign of Richard the Second, he was continually embroiled with the ruling powers, and at last perished on the scaffold. As Admiral of the West this earl, accompanied by Thomas Mowbray, earl of Nottingham, went to sea in 1387, and took about one hundred ships laden with wines, containing one thousand nine hundred tuns. "After which," says Holinshed, "he took Brest, in Bretagne, and returned to England, which deeds of the earl's being envied by such as were with the king, as the Duke of Ireland, the Earle of Suffoke, Sir Simon Burley, and others, depraving the earle to the king, said that he had performed no worthie exploit, but only invaded a few merchants, whose amitie it had been more fruitful to have preserved, than to have stirred unintreatable hatred." The same historian states, that the citizens of Middleburg requested to buy those wines of him, and to pay him after the rate of "a hundred shillings a tunne," but that he denied their suit. The portion which fell to his share of this capture was so liberally bestowed among his friends, that he left not himself a single tun. Soon after this a combination was formed secretly at Arundel Castle between this earl, his brother, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and others, to guard the king's person, and reform the government, by assuming regal authority in their several districts. They acted on this for a time, but subsequently the king's party prevailed, and the earl was dismissed from his office of High Admiral; after this he became reconciled to the king. Froissart describes this earl as a man of inflexible courage
This unfortunate earl had taken for his second wife Philippa, daughter of Edmund Mortimer, earl of March, and widow of John de Hastings, son and heir of the Earl of Pembroke. This marriage took place without license from the king, to whom Philippa was related, and the earl was therefore fined 400 marks for the offence. This Countess of Arundel was the means of producing a quarrel between the earl and the Duke of Lancaster, on account of the marriage of the latter with Catherine Swinford. Stow says that "the great ladies of England, as the Duchesse of Gloucester, the Countess of Arundel, and others descended of the blood royall, greatlie disdained that she (Catherine Swineford) should be matched with the Duke of Lancaster, and by that means be counted the second person in the realme, and be preferred in roome before them, and, therefore, they said they would not come where she was present, for that it should be a shame to them, that a woman of so base birth should go and have place before them." The extreme rigour of the duke, at the time of the Earl of Arundel's trial, has been, in part, attributed to this cause.
Thomas Fitz-Alan, son of the above ill-fated earl, was deprived of all his possessions by Richard the Second, and was also taken prisoner, but contrived to make his escape to the continent. As might be expected, he was one of the first English noblemen who joined the standard of Henry of Bolingbroke. He officiated at the coronation, and was restored to all his rights and possessions by Henry the Fourth. To him, and to the son of the Duke of Gloucester, the person of the unhappy Richard was confided; and, it is said, that Henry the Fourth, in committing the deposed monarch to their charge, said to them, "Here is the murderer of your fathers, you must be answerable for him."
Thomas Fitz-Alan was the seventh earl of Arundel, and was married to Beatrice, an illegitimate daughter of the King of Portugal, with great pomp in London, the king and queen being present on the occasion. He died on the 13th of October, 1415. Passing over the peaceable succession and lives of several succeeding earls, we come to Henry Fitz-Alan, the thirteenth earl of Arundel, and the last of that name. This nobleman was born in 1511, and was named after Henry the Eighth, his godfather. The high spirit and integrity of his ancestors were largely exhibited by this earl. In Lodge's Memoirs he is thus noticed: "In the life of a man of exalted rank, not less distinguished by the vigour of his talents than by his honesty and high spirit, continually in the service of the crown under four monarchs, the characters of whose minds and tempers, and the policy of whose governments were dissimilar even to opposition; devoted with the most faithful and unbending resolution to a religion which he saw alternately cherished and proscribed by those princes, professed and abjured by his compeers,